Love
by DarkestAphelion
Summary: Yami no Bakura loves his host, Bakura Ryou, in the only way he can... [Dark. Introspection.]


Love 

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**Summary:** Yami no Bakura loves his hikari in the only way he can. An introspection. Bakura x Ryou. Oneshot. Companion to "The Hero Gets the Girl".

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**A/N:** Yeah, I know, original title. Well, I was trying to think of something witty to go along with the other one, but I ended up deciding simple was best, so I hope that works out.

To anyone who's reading this for the first time, this is the companion story for my six-chapter "The Hero Gets The Girl". You can read this first, that first, doesn't matter, and you don't have to read both of them to get a coherent story (well, that's the idea, anyway). So go ahead and read... especially if you like Yami Bakura, this is all his POV.

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When you grow up, you can see things that you couldn't when you were a child. Maybe you missed them in your rush to grow up; maybe you didn't know their importance or they were not shown to you.

I can see, from my vantage point of three thousand years, that I grew up in a place of kindly people who were very much protective of me because I was born to them. The whole social life of that place existed in a way to protect the people who lived there. I lived in a village that took care of its unappreciative children.

They were not unconditionally loving- being nearly albino in working-class Egypt has few perks- but if they gossiped, there was little malicious in the words, and they took care of me nonetheless. By whose fault it was that they provoked me to no end, I don't know.

But I do know that it was my fault that I never reached out anymore as they did. I was not then aware that love took two sides to support it.

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I remember the first time that I met Bakura Ryou. Coming out of a dark, ungrateful slumber, I was consumed with the wrath of ages. I delighted in making the little boy cry. Malicious. I'd like to think there was a small part of me that really believed that I was toughening up my heirs. But I was probably just being cruel.

Cruel is a name he's called me often. Cruel, evil, sadistic, insane, wrathful, uncouth, uncaring... can you just see how the insults lose their weight, with time? There was a part of him that had never been stirred, until then.

There is darkness in the heart of every light that exists. A star wishes silently to reach its full age, so that it might burn out into a dark mass of universe, shedding its youthful brightness for the dignified dark of age. There was a darkness in Bakura Ryou's heart that had had no reason to come out before. His life had not been trouble-free, but it had not encountered sufficient despair. It was child's play for me to stir the depths of his soul.

And then he indeed despaired.

He tried to take his life. Many, many times. And then he stopped- abruptly, he just decided that that was not something he would do anymore. He devoted his life instead to stopping me. I watched with interest.

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As he grew up, I grew closer to him- not in any way that he would know, because he hated me more than ever. But _I _could see, objectively, that we were indeed two souls with a similar track.

Before I had wondered which gods were laughing at me, that they might send a little frightened boy to me- I who had made _myself_ into the king of thieves. He was truly pathetic during his teenage years, always running after the king of _games_ and his modern weakling.

I told him once or twice that he didn't belong with them, but he ignored me as best as he could.

Age will make even the village idiot wise, though, if they only listen to their betters and observe the ways of the world. Whether he liked it or not, Bakura Ryou could not block the formation of his adult mind from my influences. I see now that all I would have had to do was wait, and he would have grown up to be a person that I wanted him to be.

I think I interfered too much. But I couldn't help it- after all, how many people have to watch in frustration as time slowly carves out their soulmate?

There has been no one else I have met, in all my years of living, that has been like me. Opposites attract for normal people, but no sweetness and light would be attracted to me.

I see the world as clearly as I can- the happily optimistic paint it over with brighter colors. The world is_ not _a happy place for the millions who live like the animals they are. I can't disabuse myself of that view.

He came to see it. It pleased me to see him grow up, to shed his childish ways and habits of over-trusting people. As he moved out of the little circle of school and friends that had occupied him in secondary school, life made him harder and more cynical. He became someone who could look after his own life, who didn't need people watching over him every second.

And as he became less dependent, people _did _stop watching over him. His once-prized _friends_- a weak, spineless bunch that only made him worse through his influence- they left him alone. He stopped conforming to their two-sided love and they dropped him as though nary a friendship speech had ever been made.

Time passed. Bakura became an adult. He moved away from that protective circle for good, out into the real world where things could happen that no one had any control over, where he was alone.

Alone except for me. I was still watching over him, quietly as always. Except using his body once in a while when needed, I left him alone.

But Bakura was a loner, then- solitary, unlike his previous acquaintances. When they moved off and left him, I saw that a part of him still longed for companionship and he was still willing to support more than his share of a foundation of love.

I knew, at that time, though, that that no longer had to be a bad thing.

For me, at any rate.

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He was an easy boy to love, once I forgiven him for the weaknesses that were, at least partly, the fault of his modern times. If it had been back before, I could have trained him to be a thief- he's so quiet no one can notice him if he doesn't want to be seen. He nestled comfortably against my sternness. So I fell in love with him.

Not "love" like I think Bakura Ryou will ever understand it. Well... I suppose he probably will one of these days. It's only when he's being truly naïve and... trusting, or _giving_... that I despair of turning him into a proper adult. Not love like he'll think of when he hears the word. Not softness or heroicness. No proclamations that I'll die to save his life. No, it's the odd kind of affection that's the closest thing I can get to love.

I wouldn't die for him. I'll live for him- I'll live with him. Life isn't so dark when he's near.

Selfish. I am. He could have had a good life. He could have become a great man. I could have taught him what he needed to know, and then let him go. A great man- not like those ridiculous narrow-minded idiots like Kaiba Seto, who need to think they have the world on a leash- someone who could do _whatever _he wanted with life. Chased no end of happiness.

Instead I taught him enough to make him like me, and then I kept him close. I blocked his mind, so he couldn't see happening what I didn't want him to see. I clouded his thoughts just enough that he never suspected me.

I made him into the perfect boy-man and then distorted the image. Made him into something not existent in the real world and only meant for display, for one person only. Me.

He never knew, I think and hope. All the brightness and will he had, despite his weaknesses, can't stand up to the wisdom garnered over centuries.

That's what I want to believe, anyway, rather than believe he willingly gave in to me. There would be no prize in the person if that were the case.

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In the spirit realm I stroke his hair. He yawns without opening his eyes. There is a gentle moment in this that stretches beyond time.

A thousand such moments since Bakura Ryou became someone I loved. As enjoyable for him as for me, the idea is, but the reality is most likely not the case. He exists in three dimensions as well as none; it can't be just as good as the real world for him. He insists that it is, but he doesn't know better.

If he turns out to be as good a companion as it looks like will be, I can go farther. Someone who is worth spending years of my life with, is worth spending millennia.

There's little comfort to be found in the nothingness of shadows, but cold eternity was always better to me than a warm hundred years, and if I have my way it'll be the same for Bakura. There are ways to make what was once human into spirit, I should know.

If his value is great, then I will offer him eternity. I know he will take it, to be with me.

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**A/N:** I... actually had no idea that last section was going to happen. Until, err, it happened. o::O strange. I lurrve this fic though, I actually do. Jus' cause it's sooo much better than the discontinous, disjointed, disorganized and unfocused companion. Also 'cause I lurrve Yami.

Hopefully this answers any questions "The Hero Gets The Girl" raised about Yami's intent. If there's anything I left hanging, or any new questions, well go ahead and ask. Comments/critiques _much_ appreciated, as always. If you really have a burning question about something then ask in my lifejournal (on profile page) so you can see the answer.

Ja.


End file.
